Jack Elliott's Santa Barbara Adventure

Surfing Cetaceans

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Jack Elliott

A couple of dolphins enjoying some of that west swell out there today.

Posted in Snapshots | Tagged Beach, Dolphins, Ocean, Sea, Surfing | 1 Comment

Tarantula Hawk

Posted on September 22, 2011 by Jack Elliott

A female tarantula hawk feeding on Doveweed flowers.

The female tarantula hawk purportedly inflicts the most agonizing sting of any insect in the United States. It’s one of the worst in the world, actually. And until about a month ago, it was also the largest known wasp species on the planet.

Dr. Justin O. Schmidt, an entomologist retired from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, developed an index that rates the level of pain resulting from the stings of 78 different species of insects found around the world. As part of his research he allowed himself to be stung by a tarantula hawk. He says the pain only lasted about three minutes, but the bug took second place on his list.

According to the 4-point Schmidt Sting Pain Index, tarantula hawks score a 4. They rate second to the bullet ant, whose sting feels similar to having been shot with a gun. The tarantula hawk delivers a zap described as “blinding, fierce, shockingly electric. A running hair drier has been dropped into your bubble bath.”

“To me,” Schmidt says, “the pain is like an electric wand that hits you, inducing an immediate, excruciating pain that simply shuts down one’s ability to do anything, except, perhaps, scream. Mental discipline simply does not work in these situations.”

Tarantula hawks are common in the Tri-county area, but they’re not aggressive and only the females can sting. They’re differentiated from males by their curly antennae. The wasp is named after the female, which hunts and attacks tarantulas to use as a source of food for its larva. Adult wasps do not eat spiders, but are nectivorous.

The wasp paralyzes a tarantula with a sting and drags it back to a subterranean den, where it lays a single egg on the spider’s body. Upon hatching the larva begins eating the paralyzed, but still living spider. It avoids vital organs at first and feeds on the tarantula for about a month. The larva eventually eats its way inside the spider’s body and hollows it out, before spinning a cocoon, pupating through winter and emerging as a fully developed wasp in spring.

Posted in Santa Barbara | Tagged Spider Wasp, Tarantula Hawk | 3 Comments

Tarantulas and Whiskey

Posted on September 21, 2011 by Jack Elliott

“Tarantulas were firmly believed to be lethal in the days of the Old West, so much so that it was thought that the only cure was whisky, which came to be known as ‘tarantula juice.’ The Indians, who tended to be excellent naturalists, had no such misconceptions about these spiders; but when the white man appeared they were quick to learn, and soon after they were introduced to this fiery drink more than one of them would take to carrying a spider around with him. At a suitable moment when he was surrounded by enough people he would surreptitiously take out his spider and screech and roll about as though he had just been bitten. Usually some kind soul would come and force a medicinal tot of whisky down his throat before he recovered sufficiently to stagger off to try his stunt elsewhere.”

—John Nichol, Bites and Stings: The World of Venomous Animals (1989)

In fall, male tarantulas roam the Santa Barbara County countryside in search of mates. It is sometimes called a tarantula migration due to the large number of individual spiders that can be seen crawling around. Figueroa Mountain Road in October is typically an excellent place and time to see tarantulas during their annual mating romp.

Posted in Santa Barbara | Tagged Tarantula, Whiskey, Whisky | Leave a comment

Sespe Afternoon

Posted on September 18, 2011 by Jack Elliott

Ridgeline reflection in Sespe Creek.

Related Post:

Sespe Creek Reflections

Posted in Snapshots | Tagged Sespe Creek | Leave a comment

Cave’s Eye View on the Carrizo Plain

Posted on September 17, 2011 by Jack Elliott

The Carrizo Plain National Monument preserves a slice of natural splendor and a refuge for reflection amid the solace and serenity of a land that exists today much as it did thousands of years ago. It offers a glimpse into California’s natural and human history and the promise of preservation for its future. Deceptive in its stark harshness, the plain is home to a wide variety of life and dotted with the traces of people who came before us.

I first experienced the Carrizo Plain on a sweltering July afternoon. After wandering about the landscape beneath a blistering sun for several hours exploring the unknown, I sat seeking refuge in the shade of a cave peering out over the desolate grassland. The land looked devoid of life.

Apart from the tell tale evidence left long ago by Native Americans, there seemed nothing of interest worth the long drive it took to get there. What could’ve possibly drawn hunter-gatherers to the area on foot? I thought. A barren landscape matched by an equally trying semiarid climate, the plain looked like a wasteland.

While driving home down the long dirt road leading out of the plain I saw a bull tule elk crowned with a magnificent rack of antlers. It struck a stately pose staring at me in the fading warm light of dusk. I was shocked. Holy ****! What the hell is that ******* thing doin’ here? I wondered.

It was the first time I had ever seen a wild elk in California. I had no idea that the Carrizo was part of their range and an elk was one of the last things I would have ever expected to see that day. It was a spectacular sight after a long day of running across nothing bigger than lizards and hawks. California was a little wilder than I had grown to expect.

I had not considered what else but a natural wealth of plants and animals might have attracted those earliest human inhabitants, whose historical traces I had sat pondering in the cave earlier that day. I now imagined dense herds of elk dotting the savannah long ago when seeds were still being ground in the bedrock mortars I had run my fingers along. A piece of the puzzle fell into place and history became a little clearer.

Through the years I’ve developed an appreciation for the countryside that I first dismissed as nothingness. It’s as if I had to detach from the frantic and rapid pace of city life, where so many details whiz by in a blur unnoticed, and attune myself to the slower rhythms and subtleties of the natural world in order to see what I was looking at. And that took time out on the plain.

I make the drive out there several times a year. There are a number of attractions that make it worth the journey, but sometimes the most rewarding experience is just being amidst an untrammeled land, where not many miles from one of the world’s busiest metropolises, it still feels like terra incognita.